Waiting on the battlefield
by Naurring
Summary: Sometimes you find the best things where you least expect them. Slash
1. Chapter 1

Title: Waiting on the battlefield (working title), Chapter one  
Disclaimer: All Tolkien's  
Word count: 2552/2552  
Pairing: Glorfindel/Erestor  
Rating: PG-13  
Warning: AN says it all, Battle of the last Alliance, so character death, blood and just plain death  
Summary: Sometimes you find the best things where you least expect them  
AN: 3430 S.A., Battle of the last Alliance

* * *

The sword hit the bloody earth with a thud as it fell from his numbed fingers. Robbed of all his strength Glorfindel slowly sank to the ground, next to his weapon. Lying motionlessly on the ground, eyes closed, he drew some deep and calming breaths. It was over. The war had been won. It was a foul and bitter victory, bought with the lives of many elves and even more men. But they had won. The Dark Lord was no more.

* * *

When Glorfindel next opened his eyes, the sky was much clearer than before. The dark clouds which had covered Sauron's lands were dispersing and the rays of the sun found their way to the earth once more. His whole body seemed to consist of nothing but pain and he didn't dare to move just yet, but the few hours of unintended sleep had returned a little strength to him, at least.

Had the battle of Gondolin been so different from this one or had he just forgotten the pain and exhaustion, the smell of death and of burned flesh, and of rivers of blood? One way or the other, he didn't really miss those memories. He probably would have enough trouble dealing with the ones from this battle.

Slowly he forced his hurting body into an upright position. He somehow had to get back to the camp, even if he did not quite know how he was supposed to cross the battlefield. He wasn't hurt, or at least he thought so. Frowning Glorfindel quickly checked his body for injuries. No, he wasn't hurt, save for some scratches and bruises that couldn't be avoided in a battle. But he was exhausted, feeling tired to the bone, and the way back to the elven encampment was long. He had fought in the front line, and it had been already a long way from there to the last warrior of their army.

Painfully Glorfindel rose to his feet, picking up his sword, sheathing it with a tired movement. Slowly he started to make his way across the battlefield, wading through mud and gore, climbing over the fallen bodies of his kinsmen and of men. He did not dare to really look at them. He did not want to see their dead, maimed bodies, their faces, twisted in death. He did not want to see elves he knew, perhaps even friends. It would be hard enough to bear when he'd learn of it at a later point.

A loud moan made Glorfindel freeze in his steps. The sound startled him, as he had not been expecting something like that on a field of the dead. His gaze fell to the ground and on the elf in front of him. The elf's face was distorted with pain and he was still gasping quietly, trying to fight the pain Glorfindel had caused him when one of the blonds' feet hit his body.

Glorfindel stared at him, his eyes moving over his body. The elf was bloody and dirty, but Glorfindel could still recognize his fine features. The elf in front of him was of an age that made Glorfindel cringe. He should be out and about with his friends, causing mischief, sneaking out of his bed at night to drink far too much, and not lie badly wounded on a blood-soaked ground. "I am sorry," Glorfindel apologized quietly. "I did not want to cause you pain. I thought everybody here was dead."

The young elf smiled weakly despite his pain. "If you had come a few hours later you would have been right." His voice was weak and painful as he forced the words out through his parched throat. He stared up at Glorfindel with frightened eyes, even though he was trying to be brave and not to show his fear and pain.

Glorfindel's eyes moved over his body and he could hardly restrain a shocked gasp at the gruesome wounds he saw there. The youngster's right leg was especially bad off. Glorfindel did not dare to imagine what exactly had caused an injury like this, but the limb was shattered. His breeches were soaked with blood and the rest of his body was equally bloody and injured; angry welts and cuts everywhere.

Glorfindel did not like to think of this, but the boy was probably right. He would not live long now. He only thought about it for a short moment, then he started to move some bodies aside, making room for himself. Carefully he sat down next to the elf.

The elf moved his head to look at Glorfindel, relief and gratefulness showing in his eyes. He knew he would be dead in a few hours, but the thought of having to die alone, with only the dead and some crows for company, had frightened him more than death itself. "You don't need to stay with me," Glorfindel heard the young elf say, even though his eyes proved his words to be lies.

"I'm tired," Glorfindel answered, accepting the boys wish. There was no need to make him feel like a child, which he certainly would if he was forced to admit he was just afraid. "I need to rest for some time."

Relieved the elf closed his eyes. Glorfindel watched him for some moment. He wished he could to something for him, anything, But he was no healer and if he moved him or touched his leg he would probably do him more harm than good. "What is your name?" he asked him after some time, watching the young elf's face.

At first Glorfindel thought he had already died or at least fallen asleep as he received no response. But his piping breath proved that he was still alive and after some minutes the elf slowly opened his eyes once more. "Erestor."

Glorfindel smiled at him, trying to act as normal as possible. The situation was difficult enough for the boy. He would die far more relaxed when he wasn't reminded of his state all the time. "Erestor. That's a beautiful name."

Erestor smiled shakily. "My mother gave it to me." His voice was barely a whisper and betrayed his weakness. "What's yours?"

"Glorfindel," Glorfindel told him. One moment later he regretted giving his name away so freely, as Erestor flinched with the realization of who sat next to him. With wide eyes he stared up at the ancient warrior. "I'm sorry!" he stammered, something akin to fear in his eyes. "I'd bow to you, but…"

Glorfindel shook his head, reaching out to carefully put a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder. "There's no need to. That is the last thing I'd think of in a situation like this. I'm just Glorfindel, no Lord, not of Gondolin, just Glorfindel, the warrior. We're all the same on the battlefield."

Erestor continued to stare up at him doubtingly for some moments, but then he closed his eyes once more, feeling more at peace with his companion. The dirt and blood and Glorfindel's weary expression made it difficult to look upon him as a lord and legend of old. "I wish I could tell my brother I met you. He'd be thrilled. He worships you."

"Your brother." Glorfindel cringed as he thought of the boy's family. They would be devastated. "Has he fought as well?"

"No," Erestor answered, the relief in his voice evident. "He's 20. He's at home." He fell silent, staring ahead with a thoughtful expression. Glorfindel could see realization creeping in and his expression turned to one of deep sadness. Glorfindel's heart nearly broke as silent tears started to draw clean paths on his dirty face. "I wish I could see them again. They'll miss me."

Glorfindel nodded slowly, swallowing hard to repress any memories. He had seen many people die, but it was always worse with the young ones, the ones whose life had barely started. He desperately wanted to help the young elf, but he knew there was nothing he could do, save for staying with him and talking to him, but even that was barely any help.

"Could you…" Erestor's faint voice drew him from his dark musings. The young elf broke off, looking up at Glorfindel uncertainly, clearly not knowing if he should voice his thoughts or not.

"What is it? You can ask me anything." Glorfindel smiled encouragingly at his charge, trying to take away his fears.

"Could you tell my family… I… I love them and… I won't forget them?" He stared up at Glorfindel hopefully, not daring to breathe as he waited for the warrior's answer.

Glorfindel could feel a big fist painfully tightening around his heart once more. It was no unusual request, but every time it nearly broke his heart. He stared down at the elf, trying not to show his own pain. The thought that this beautiful young boy would be dead soon made him sick.

"Of course. If I can find them, I'll tell them what you said."

Relieved Erestor closed his eyes. Glorfindel could see how weak he was and how few strength he had left. "Please… tell them…" Erestor continued, his voice getting audibly weaker. "Tell them I died quickly and… that it wasn't painful."

"I will." Glorfindel had to swallow hard until he could continue speaking. It was a pity that this brave beautiful young elf should be dead soon. "What are their names?"

"My mother's name is Neniell. My father… I don't even know if you need to know his name…" Erestor broke off, broken-hearted.

"Just tell me," Glorfindel encouraged. It was far better for the boy if his mind wasn't forced to linger on the upcoming event.

"Nathron. My father's name is Nathron. I lost him in the battle…" Erestor's voice trailed off and Glorfindel saw his gaze sweeping over the corpses next to him, as if he was expecting he'd see his father there.

"Do you have any siblings?" Glorfindel asked quickly to draw him back.

Erestor nodded slowly. "I have two sisters. The older one is called Muinthelîl and the younger one is Tinu. My brother…" He smiled slightly as he thought of the merry little boy. "His name is Ôladon." He paused shortly, thinking. "Father and I promised to him we'd come back soon. He'll be angry with us. He won't understand…"

"I will find them," Glorfindel vowed to the dying youth. "As soon as Sauron's forces have been taken care of and it is safe to travel once more." A thought struck him as he said this which had not occurred to him before. "You're not from Lindon, are you?" Usually he would have been able to tell looking at the boy's garb, but he was completely covered in blood and mud and there was no way to recognize the colours of the garments.

"Mirkwood," Erestor whispered, his breath slowly becoming more strained. Still a weak smile appeared on his lips as he thought of home and of their departure. "The king," he whispered, his mind turning to the glorious figure of Oropher on his white battle horse. "What has ha-" His words were cut short as a heavy coughing fit took hold of him. His whole frame shook with it and Glorfindel's heart nearly broke as he heard the boy's pained moans as his body was moved like this. His pity turned to horror as he saw the small stream of red blood that ran out of Erestor's mouth.

Seeing this some things fell into place and he now also understood the elf's piping breath. His lungs were hurt, probably by a broken rip, a spear or some other piece of metal that had entered his ribcage. It wouldn't be long now.

Erestor's form finally stilled and he lay there, breathing heavily, his eyes closed in immense pain. Glorfindel reached out to carefully take one of his hands, trying to give him at least a little comfort. He was surprised about the strength with which the boy took it and squeezed it. He'd never expected this from someone in his condition. But he had seen people do enormous things, dying. Most of the time it was just the last gathering of strength, only to fail completely some moments later.

Erestor's words came back to him and he grimaced slightly as he thought about the answer. He had been at the very front and had seen what Oropher's folly and disobedience had led him to. "Thranduil is king now," he simply said, not wanting to openly voice what this meant.

"So he's… dead?" Erestor asked weakly, eyes still closed.

"Yes," Glorfindel answered hesitantly. For some reason he was deeply reluctant to discuss death with a dying person.

"At least we have a king in the halls," Erestor whispered. Glorfindel seemed to have been right. His strength seemed to be withering quickly now. His grip on Glorfindel's hand had become far weaker, as had his voice.

Glorfindel reached out with his other hand to gently stroke the boy's blood-soaked hair. "Don't worry. It's really not bad there." He didn't need to say where "there" was, they both knew what he meant by this. Mandos' halls. "The decoration is a bit… grey perhaps, but it's a good place to live."

"You've been there," Erestor breathed, motionlessly.

"Yes. It's been some time ago, but I doubt it has changed so much in that time. It didn't in all the time I was there and that's been far longer than the time I wasn't there." Glorfindel knew he was babbling, but he didn't know what else to say, and he couldn't just sit there and let the boy die in silence. "Mandos is far nicer than you might think, considering he's the Vala of the dead. But he's really easy to talk to, you'll like him. I haven't seen Vaire very often; she's far too busy weaving Arda's stories into tapestries. I'm sure there's also one about you, if you ask nicely she'll perhaps let you keep it. You better ask Mandos about it, though, as I said, you don't get to see Vaire very often and…" His gaze fell upon the young elf next to him and he closed his mouth. Erestor wasn't listening anymore, he was lying with his eyes closed, motionlessly, his breath coming slow and irregular. Glorfindel turned his eyes away from him, looking into the distance over the battlefield. He had to fight hard to keep back his tears. It would be over in a few minutes.

He narrowed his eyes, as he thought to see movement in the distance. It was probably just crows and other carrion birds he saw there, nothing more. But as he looked closer he realized that there were indeed persons in front of them, elves considering their hair. A man would not have been able to see anything more than a faint movement, if at all, but Glorfindel's elven sight allowed him to see more details. His heart missed a beat as he saw one of the elves stop and turn around, pointing in his direction. Moments later he moved again, walking towards them, accompanied by other elves.

Glorfindel's gaze travelled to the youth at his side once more. His breath was still heavy, but he was yet alive. Perhaps it wasn't too late after all.

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Everything Lotr related belongs to the well known Mr Tolkien, not to me.

Wordcount: 1918/4471

* * *

Glorfindel had been glad to leave the battlefield, to get away from all this death, but as he stumbled through the camp tiredly he realized that things weren't better here. Usually the people in the camp were talking, laughing, moving around, living, but now the only movements were tired glances as he passed, if at all.Many elves were lying on the ground, wounded or just plain exhausted, and for some of them it was clear they'd never wake again.

Glorfindel felt tired to the bone, but still his steps led him to the big tent first, which had been set up as the major healing tent, serving as a place to keep the healing equipment and to offer a place of peace to the wounded and sick. As soon as he entered his gaze fell upon Elrond, who was standing at a table, working on something he wasn't able to see. Glorfindel felt deeply relieved at seeing his friend. Elrond could have died as easily as everybody else, but he seemed for the most part unharmed, save for a bloody scratch across his brow.

Walking up to the smaller elf Glorfindel smiled, watching his friend work on a draught. "Elrond."

The half elf turned around at hearing his voice, nearly losing his grip on the cup he held in hands. His eyes were big with astonishment and he stared at the warrior open mouthed. "Glorfindel!" he finally brought forth, putting the cup back on the table. "You live!"

"I don't feel like it," Glorfindel admitted, his voice slow and deep with exhaustion.

"I thought you were dead!" Elrond explained, advancing on his friend. "Many people have told me they had seen you dead on the battlefield!"

Looking around Glorfindel sat down on a chair. He nearly fell asleep this very moment, but he forced his eyes to stay open. "I was tired. I lay down to sleep a little before coming here. Perhaps they saw me at that moment."

"Probably." Elrond sank to his knees in front of the blond, gently touching his knees. He had never seen the famed warrior look this terrible or exhausted. Glorfindel was a beautiful elf, but at this moment nobody would look twice at him. "Are you hurt?"

Glorfindel shook his head, too tired to talk much. His gaze travelled to the wall of fabric that cut off a big part of the tent to form a resting place for the wounded. "Have you seen Erestor?"

Elrond frowned at him. "Who is Erestor?"

"I found him on the battlefield. He…" Glorfindel had to take a deep breath before he was able to speak again. "He's probably dead by now. He's very young. His leg is shattered and there's something wrong with his lungs…" Glorfindel stopped feeling his throat tighten with the knowledge those wounds would probably be the end of the youth.

"I don't know," Elrond answered after a long silent moment of thinking hard. "There are so many… I can barely remember who the last one was I treated."

Glorfindel nodded slowly, having hoped against better knowledge that Elrond had seen Erestor make it to the healing tent. He passed a hand over his face, sighing exhaustedly.

Elrond rose to his feet, looking at his friend uneasily. Glorfindel looked terrible and he would have loved to take care of him, but there were people who needed his attention far more than the warrior. "I have to go back to work now. There's so much to do..." Sadly he shook his head. "Go to bed, Glorfindel. You don't look much better than the dead yourself."

Glorfindel watched as Elrond left his side, vanishing behind the curtain. His legs screamed with pain as he slowly rose to his feet. The way to his own tent appeared to be at least as long as the way from the battlefield to the encampment. Sinking down onto his bedroll he briefly thought about taking off his clothes, but at he had already fallen asleep.

* * *

When he finally woke Glorfindel found himself lying in the same position he had fallen asleep in. He eyes didn't quite want to open and it took some moments until he had pried the swollen lids apart. A heavy rain was pounding on the roof of his tent. Glorfindel simply lay there for some moments, staring at the ceiling, watching heavy drops of rain leak through a hole in the fabric. His body felt strangely heavy and he couldn't quite determine his state of wakefulness. Some part of him felt wide awake, whilst the other wanted nothing more than to close the eyes once more and fall back asleep.

The leaking roof finally convinced him of rising to his feet, as the raindrops were coming down unpleasantly near to his legs and the fabric of his breeches was soaking them up greedily. He took his time searching for clean clothes. Some thoughtful person had put a jug of water at the entrance to his tent, as well as a piece of cloth, and he thankfully took the offer to rid himself of all those blood and dirt clinging to him. Soon the cloth and the water were a dark dirty red, after having cleaned barely more than his face.

After a moment of thinking Glorfindel took of the torn and dirty garments and stepped out into the rain. Normally he wouldn't do something like this, but the situation didn't call for misplaced shamefulness. Dropping his clothes next to his tent he stepped further into the rain, letting the water wash of the traces of the battle. Casting a look around he discovered that he wasn't the only one who had taken the chance of taking an unexpected shower. No need to worry about this, then. Nobody would even look twice at him.

Washed and dressed in more or less clean and whole clothes he felt much better than the night before; or was it the day before? Glorfindel had no idea how long he had slept. It felt like days, but he still felt exhausted. Going back into his tent to sleep on the wet ground wasn't a very appealing option, though.

Instead his steps involuntarily led him to the healing tent, running through the pounding rain. He didn't even really know why he had come here until he entered the tent and his gaze instantly travelled towards the curtain, shielding the wounded from view. He knew that it was actually pointless to look for Erestor. He was long dead by now. But even though he knew this he felt the need to hear it from a healer's mouth.

He didn't even have to look long for Elrond. He found him in nearly the same position as last time, standing at the table laden with cups, bowls and herbs. "Did you even sleep?" he greeted his friend, advancing on him. "Or did you work all this time?"

Elrond turned around, absentmindedly adding some herbs to the concoction he was brewing. A smile appeared on his face as he saw the warrior. Clean and rested he looked far more the famed hero he was. "I slept. There's quite a lot I can do, but working for days without stop is not one of them."

"And yet it wouldn't be the first time you did it."

"I never did it when lives depended on me." He pushed a small bowl with various herbs in Glorfindel's direction. "Here. Grind these."

Taking the bowl Glorfindel started to do as he was bid, Elrond already starting to select herbs for a new draught. "You're little friend really is a tough boy."

Surprised Glorfindel looked up from his work, wondering for a short moment who Elrond was talking about, until they remembered their conversation from last time. "Erestor?"

Elrond nodded, gaze fixed on his work. "I gathered you'd like some news from him, so I tried to find out where he had been brought."

"Thank you. He is a tough guy. Was." Glorfindel had to swallow hard, thinking of the brave youth. "I hope his death wasn't too painful."

Elrond stopped working, looking at the blond. "It wasn't. And with some luck it's not going to be."

Glorfindel nearly dropped the grinder as he heard this. "He's alive?"

Elrond nodded once more, going back to his task. "He is. He's not well, definitely not, but he's alive. Usually I'd say I don't know how much longer but… I seriously didn't think he'd survive the night. He lost so much blood and his lungs are damaged. And yet he didn't die. I seriously don't know anymore if he's going to live or not."

Glorfindel stared down at the half grinded herbs. He had seen many wounded in his life and much like Elrond he wouldn't have thought there wasn't even the tiniest chance the young elf would see the light of the next day. But the boy was far tougher than he had thought. "Can I see him?"

Elrond hesitated for a moment, than he nodded. "He is really not well, though, so please don't strain him in any way. At the moment any kind of stress could prove to be his death." Leaving his supplies on the table Elrond made his way over to the tarp, followed by Glorfindel. "I wish I could have done more for him, but my possibilities are limited in this place. In Lindon it would have been a completely different matter, but in a place like this…"

"I'm sure you did everything you could," Glorfindel reassured the half elf, as he followed him slowly through the rows of wounded and dying, feeling sick at seeing all this death and pain.

Erestor had been brought to the very end of the tent. Glorfindel was grateful for this, for it was far more quiet here than at the front. There every sound from the separated front part, where many of the wounded were treated, was clearly audible.

Now that he had been cleaned and treated Erestor looked nearly worse than on the battlefield. There were bruises and scratches everywhere, no part of his body seemed untouched. Erestor lay with his eyes closed, his breath coming in ragged gasps, but there was no mistaking that he lived. Carefully Glorfindel sank to the ground next to him, not touching, just watching. The young elf's skin was an unhealthy shade of white and his lips and eyelids a quite disturbing shade of blue.

Glorfindel did not know how long he sat there, just staring at the youth. Erestor did not move as much as a hair. Finally Glorfindel hesitantly reached out to touch the pale cheek. The heat emanating from him startled him and he shrank back, shocked. Swallowing hard he moved back, gently stroking the hot and damp flesh. It was worse than he had thought at first, if he had even developed a fever. The boy was hurt and weak; he wouldn't be able to endure the exhausting force of a high fever.

Finally Glorfindel rose again, preparing to leave. He'd preferred to stay here, but there were many other people he had to take care of, people who were going to live. It was only with great force of will that Glorfindel managed to leave the tent. No matter what Elrond might say, personally he didn't think the boy was going to live. With a heavy feeling settling on his shoulders, Glorfindel prepared himself for the gruesome task of counting the lost lives.

* * *


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Everything Lotr related belongs to the well known Mr Tolkien, not to me.

Wordcount: 1983/6456

* * *

Chapter 3

He seriously hadn't expected he'd see Erestor alive the next time, but to his utter surprise the boy still breathed when he checked on him in the evening. As well as in the next morning. The tent was mostly dark when he quietly made his way through the rows of the sick. Each time he came here he saw elves having vanished from their beds and other people lying on them, a gruesome sight. When he finally arrived at Erestor's side the youth did not seem to have moved at all, still lying in the same position as when Glorfindel had first seen him here.

He wasn't quite sure anymore about the boy's chances of survival. Elrond seemed quite confident now that he would live, after already having survived two days. His fever had lessened, even though he was still far too hot for his own good. Gently Glorfindel caressed the boy's face, hoping he'd feel he wasn't alone. By now he already expected to feel the unnatural heat of his fevered skin, but what he did not expect were the dark eyes to open. They stared at him, glazed with fever, but awake nonetheless.

Glorfindel needed a moment to regain his composure. Then a happy smile spread on his face. "Erestor", he greeted the young elf softly.

The dark eyes closed again for a moment. "Am I alive?" His voice was hoarse and barely audible and Glorfindel cringed at the thought of how painful speaking must be for him.

"Yes," he said, smiling happily. "You're alive. And I don't think you'll die anytime soon."

"That's good." A weak smile appeared on the bruised features, before they contorted slightly with pain as he tried to swallow, trying to moisten his dry mouth.

"Do you want some water?" Glorfindel asked gently, already rising to his feet to get what he was offering.

Erestor nodded slowly, opening his eyes once more in expectation of a cool drink.

"I'll get something for you." Glorfindel hastened to find what he had promised and returned some time later with a mug of fresh water to the young elf's side.

Glorfindel's face contorted in sympathetic pain as he carefully lifted Erestor's head, holding the mug to his lip. Greedily the mug was emptied, even though even this simple movement caused him pain. After that Erestor lay on his bed, gasping breathlessly from the effort of having to stop breathing for short moments to be able to drink.

Glorfindel said nothing further. The boy clearly wasn't in any condition to take part in a conversation. Making himself comfortable he put a hand on Erestor's arm, just sitting next to him, silently, lending him support. He remained far longer at his side than he had done the previous times. He should probably leave to take care of other things, but he simply couldn't bring himself to leave, now that he knew the youth was awake and felt his presence.

"Here you are." Startled he looked up to the person standing next to him. Elrond carefully sat down the supplies he had brought. "They are looking for you." There was another elf behind Elrond, but he remained in the background, waiting for instructions from the head healer.

Glorfindel sighed, looking ruefully at the sleeping elf. "I know. I just couldn't bring myself to leave him." Hesitantly he released the young elf's hand, caressing his face. "I guess I better go now, before they come in here to look for me."

Elrond nodded, leafing through the things he had brought. "I need to take a look at his injuries and change the bandages. Perhaps you want to stay until I'm finished."

Instantly Glorfindel reached for the pale hand once more, thankful to be able to stay just a little longer. At the same time a sick knot appeared in his stomach at the thought of what Erestor would have to endure in a few moments.

Elrond gazed at his friend with a sad look on his face. "This has to be done. I wish I could spare him the pain and the discomfort, but I just don't have the proper supplies in a place like this and he's in no condition to be moved."

Glorfindel nodded. "I know. I guess the pain is better than being dead, but still… I don't want him to be in pain."

Elrond sighed, waving to the elf accompanying him to step nearer. "Well then. There's no need in delaying this. I'll try to be quick and bring him as little pain as possible."

"I know you do." Glorfindel knew that his friend only wanted the best for the young elf, but he still had to fight hard not to scream at him as he felt the hand tighten around his and heard Erestor suck in the air as soon as Elrond lifted the thin blanket and started removing the bandages.

He only watched Elrond work for a few seconds, turning his head away as soon as he saw the wounds revealed. If he'd look he had no doubt that he'd vomit. The time until the two healers were finally finished seemed to be endless and Glorfindel had to fight hard not to pull them away from the young elf. He could tell that Erestor tried to bear the pain, but still now and then a pained moan slipped from his lips and his grip on Glorfindel's hand was so tight the warrior thought his fingers would break.

"You can look", Elrond's voice sounded after a seemingly endless time. "I'm finished."

Hesitantly Glorfindel turned his head, peering at the three elves. The bandage around Erestor's chest had been replaced and the cast around his leg gleamed likewise new and white. Relieved Glorfindel dared to turn completely. Erestor was breathing heavily and was lying with his eyes closed, but he did seem to be awake.

"Are you alright?" Glorfindel asked softly, bending down to stroke the boy's damp hair. Erestor nodded weakly, eyes squeezed closed to shut out the pain.

The second healer rose to his feet and left as Elrond pulled the blanket back over his patient's body. "I'm finished. I won't bother you again until tomorrow." Soothingly he stroked Erestor's healthy leg. "Rest." Rising, Elrond stepped away from the two elves to leave, motioning Glorfindel to follow him.

Glorfindel's first impulse was to stand up and follow his friend, but he couldn't possibly leave the young elf in a moment like this. Erestor was still fighting the pain left from the treatment and was holding fast on Glorfindel's hand. Lying down next to him, Glorfindel gently caressed his face, trying to soothe him and help him bear the pain.

It took some moments, but finally Erestor's breath slowed and the pain seemed to lessen. Slowly the dark eyes opened, staring at his companion.

Glorfindel smiled at him. "Does it still hurt?" he asked, worriedly.

"It always hurts", Erestor whispered tiredly.

Glorfindel sighed. "I know. Elrond's doing his best, but in a place like this…"

"It's not his fault. I knew something like this could happen when I left."

"I doubt it was your choice to go to war", Glorfindel grumbled, sitting up. "I reported you to Thranduil. He needs to know how many of his people are still alive and who."

Erestor nodded, thoughtfully. "Have you heard anything of my father?"

Sadly Glorfindel shook his head. "I asked some people and looked him in the lists of the fallen." Glorfindel swallowed hard at this, remembering how frighteningly long those lists were. "But I couldn't find him." Seeing Erestor's sad face he quickly added, "That doesn't mean anything. It is extremely difficult to keep track of who died and who didn't. It might have been an oversight or he was put on another list. He might be hurt and not able to tell who he is…"

"Or he might be dead," Erestor sadly continued.

"He might. You shouldn't mourn him yet, there's as big a chance that he lives as that he doesn't." Glorfindel hated to lie to the youth, but he didn't know how to reassure him in any other way. The truth was that Mirkwood had suffered the biggest losses and that Erestor's father was probably amongst them.

Erestor knew Glorfindel only wanted to spare him the truth, but he knew as much as the warrior that it was unlikely he'd see his father again.

Gently Glorfindel moved his fingers through the dark hair. "I'm sorry. I'd rather not leave you alone, but there's so much to do…"

Erestor nodded, understandingly. "Go. I'm tired, anyway."

"I'll come back later," Glorfindel promised, but Erestor already seemed to be asleep.

Elrond was waiting for when he stepped through the makeshift door.

"I'm sorry," Glorfindel apologized. "I couldn't leave him alone with this."

Elrond nodded. Taking a steaming cup of tea from the table he walked over to one of the chairs, sitting down. "I gathered as much." Sipping his tea he waited for his friend to sit down next to him.

"How is he?" Glorfindel asked, the worry in his voice evident.

"His wounds are healing." Elrond slowly took a sip of his tea before continuing. "Not fast, but they heal, though it will take time until he's well again."

"Is there no possibility of taking him away from here? This is no place for a sick elf!"

Elrond slowly shook his head. "Moving him could prove fatal because of his wounds. There's no way of taking him away until they have healed further." Sighing he moved his hand through his hair. "I don't even want to think about how long we'll have to stay in this godforsaken place until everybody is well enough to make the trip back to their homes."

"At least they still have homes they can return to. Just imagine how things would be now if we had lost."

"I'd rather not," Elrond answered dryly. Thoughtfully he sipped his tea. Glorfindel waited patiently. "About homes…" The half elf continued after some moments of silence. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Which is?" Glorfindel looked at his friend, waiting for what was to come. The half elf didn't seem to be too well, he looked tired and overworked.

"I won't return to Lindon," Elrond broke to him, waiting for the warrior's reaction.

Glorfindel looked at him, surprised. "And where do you want to go then?"

Elrond smiled slightly, thinking of the beautiful place he had chosen for his new home. "Rivendell."

"Oh. There." Glorfindel had never been to the place, but he had already heard much of the valley, even though it had only recently been built up by the half elf.

"I'd like you to come with me. Of course only if you want to." Pleadingly Elrond looked at his friend. "I'd be very glad to have you at my side."

Glorfindel sat on his chair in silence, looking at the dirty floor. "Rivendell. I heard it's a beautiful place."

"It is," Elrond agreed. "You don't have to stay, of course. You can always leave if you wish so." Elrond shrugged, unsure of what to say further.

Glorfindel nodded slowly. "I'll think about it. We won't go there tomorrow, anyway."

Elrond smiled slightly, draining his cup. "You're always welcome there." Rising he moved towards the table, putting down his cup. "I have to go back to work. There are wounded men waiting for my help."

Glorfindel rose as well, moving towards the entrance of the tent. "Take care of him," he told him, nodding in the direction where Erestor slept. "And Elrond," he called after his friend as Elrond was about to step behind the curtain. "Sleep."

Elrond smiled at him tiredly. "Later. Once I'm finished."

Shaking his head Glorfindel watched as the half elf vanished inside. It wouldn't be long and he'd be one of the elves lying there.

* * *


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Everything Lotr related belongs to the well known Mr Tolkien, not to me.

Wordcount: 1922/8380

* * *

Chapter 4

The loud snoring next to him didn't bother Erestor too much when he woke from a deep and dreamless sleep. There were hundreds of people in this tent and he had long grown used to the noises accompanying this. He himself did not breathe very quietly since the battle. Blinking sleepily he tried to shift into a more comfortable position. He'd spent days and weeks lying on his back by now and he craved nothing more than to sleep on his stomach.

Something light caught his attention and his eyes widened in surprise when he saw Glorfindel sitting next to him, slumped forward and clearly deeply asleep. The warrior was an amazing sight, tall and noble. Erestor had been sure that he'd never talk to him again after their encounter on the battlefield. Why should a hero like him associate with a common worker like himself? Every time the warrior left him he was sure he'd not come back, and yet he did, over and over again, to Erestor's utter surprise and bliss.

He'd never imagined something like this would happen, not in his brightest dreams, him talking to a famed hero, in such a casual, enjoyable way. The blond elf jerked in his sleep and the snoring briefly stopped, before it continued. Erestor couldn't help the shy smile that spread over his face. It surely was not a word usually coming to one's mind thinking of Glorfindel of Gondolin, but caught in his wild dreams the tall elf certainly looked terribly cute.

Watching his sleeping companion he patiently waited for the elf to wake. Glorfindel woke with a start as, once more, Erestor shifted slightly, looking about confused, not quite sure where he was and how he had gotten there. His gaze fell upon Erestor, who returned the gaze, a big grin on his face, as the warrior blinked at him, sleepily and confused. Shaking his head to clear his mind Glorfindel moved his hand over his face, brushing away the last remnants of sleep. "I'm sorry," he apologized, feeling deeply embarrassed at having fallen asleep in a place like this.

"There's no need to feel sorry," Erestor softly answered, his voice still weak, even if it already sounded much better than in the beginning. "Shouldn't you be in your tent and sleep if you're that tired?"

"That's where I was heading," Glorfindel admitted. "I just wanted to see how you were doing first. I need to have fallen asleep when sitting down for a moment…" He shook his head, not quite knowing himself how he had ended up asleep next to the young elf in the healing tent. "Actually I think I was just looking for a dry place to sleep because there's a leak in my tent and the whole thing is flooded." Smiling he looked at his young charge.

"And then you thought you could just throw me out of my bed and use it yourself, so that you didn't have to go through the trouble of looking for something." Erestor smiled back at him, feeling a little silly, bantering with the famed balrog slayer like this.

"Sure. It's far easier to just take from the sick and crippled." Sighing he moved a hand through his hair, slightly rumpled from sleep. "Do you have any idea how late it is?"

Erestor shook his head, his smile slowly fading away. "Why do you always come here?" he suddenly heard himself say. He hadn't quite intended to ask this, but the question had been troubling him for weeks now and now that he had spoken his mind it was just as well, he'd finally receive an answer to this riddle.

Glorfindel looked at him, surprised. "Why I come here?" The question clearly confused him, not quite knowing what exactly Erestor meant with this. "Am I… disturbing you? I won't come anymore if you don't want me to."

"No!" Erestor answered quickly, realizing the warrior had slightly misunderstood the question. "I don't mind at all. It's nice to have someone to talk to without having to tell everything a dozen times because your neighbours are already gone again. I just… don't understand it. You're…" Helplessly he looked for words. Finding none he finally settled for, "You're Glorfindel. And I… I am just Erestor. I don't understand why you always come to me, especially when you're this tired."

Silently Glorfindel sat there, looking at his young friend, searching for an answer. "I just like to come," he finally said. He shrugged uncertainly, smiling shyly.

Erestor looked at him, brow furrowed, not quite knowing what to do with this answer.

Glorfindel quickly rose, realizing the situation had become awkward beyond control. "I'm sorry. I should leave now before I fall asleep once more. I'll be back tomorrow."

Erestor nodded, watching the warrior turn to leave. "Sleep well," he managed to say, before he was gone.

Glorfindel nearly fled out of the tent. Erestor's question had disturbed him greatly, especially as it brushed a topic he had often thought about himself and hadn't found an answer to. Erestor was by far not the first injured elf he had seen or which he had saved, not even the youngest of them. So why was he that worried about this particular elf and hadn't been about the others?

He instantly crashed into Elrond when he left the main part of the tent. Elrond managed to catch his footing, but a bowl fell from his hands and to the floor.

"Glorfindel!" Elrond scolded, quickly putting everything else he held in his hands onto the table. "What on Arda has gotten into you?"

Glorfindel stood still for a moment, shocked about the collision, then he bent down to pick up the fallen bowl. "I'm sorry, Elrond. I didn't mean to."

"You really should be more careful," Elrond answered angrily. "Our supplies are few and I really can't spare any of them just because you didn't look where you were going."

"I'm sorry." Glorfindel stepped up to his friend, turning the bowl in his hands. "Here. There's a crack, but you should still be able to use it."

Elrond took the bowl, examining it himself with an annoyed expression. "It could have been broken." His gaze travelled to his friend, examining him. "What is the matter?"

"Nothing. I'm just tired."

"You're moving pretty fast for that," Elrond noted, raising his eyebrows.

Glorfindel shrugged. "It's nothing. I'm just… a little embarrassed." He smiled awkwardly, sitting down on one of the chairs, realizing he wouldn't get out of this that easily. "I just wanted to check on Erestor for a few minutes and somehow fell asleep on his bed."

"And you're telling me to sleep more?"

"You should. You've got dark circles under your eyes."

Elrond left his work for some moments to sit down next to his friend, using this opportunity to take a short break. "How could I sleep when lives depend on me?" he whispered.

Glorfindel didn't answer, knowing this kind of feeling quite well. For a short time they simply sat there, in silent agreement, needing no words to communicate their feelings.

"Thranduil's leaving," Glorfindel broke the silence after some moments.

Elrond looked at him, surprised. "Leaving? For Mirkwood?"

Glorfindel nodded. "Yes. He told me shortly before I came here. He said he just wants to take his people home and that they're nothing but a burden in a place like this, using the supplies."

Elrond snorted. "And what about those of his people that are still unable to travel? Or the fact that we still need every hand we can get?"

"I don't think he's thinking about this," Glorfindel admitted. "Actually I don't think he's thinking at all, though I can understand this to some degree. His father's dead, he's suddenly king, of a realm that has more than its fare share of problems on top of it, more than half of his warriors are dead or crippled… He's too young. I think it's too much for him. He just wants to get home, away from all of this."

"That still doesn't excuse the fact that he's leaving many of his people behind without a possibility of returning home for the time being."

Glorfindel sighed. "I know. But I can't keep him back. He's king now." His gaze involuntarily travelled towards the flap that led deeper into the tent. "Erestor's from Mirkwood as well."

Elrond followed his gaze, smiling gently. "You like him."

Glorfindel's head snapped around look at the half elf. "Why do have the impression you don't quite mean it the way you say it?"

"Oh Glorfindel!" Elrond urged. "You like him. You're here every day, even more than once, and when we still thought he'd die you were morbidly depressed. I'm not stupid. Do you really think I don't realize what you're up to?"

Glorfindel's eyes narrowed. "Elrond! How can you say this? I'm no paedophile!"

"Glorfindel, please. He's young, especially compared to you, but he's by far no child, especially after this battle. He's a grown elf."

"He's barely reached his majority," Glorfindel mumbled, not liking the direction this conversation was taking at all.

"But he already reached it. There's nothing wrong with liking him."

"I don't like him," Glorfindel mumbled, crossing his arms defiantly in front of him. "I mean… I like him, but I don't like him."

"If you don't why are you spending so much time with him? Why do you want to know every detail about his health and his injuries? There are more than enough other elves in a similar situation, but you're not asking me anything more than if they're still alive about them."

Glorfindel shrugged, sighing quietly. "I don't know. He asked me the same thing."

A smile spread on Elrond's face. "So that's what caused you to run. You don't like the answer, do you?"

"There is no answer. Do you really think I'd take advantage of an injured elf like this? Making him think I care for him just to get into his bed?"

Elrond gently shook his head. "I would never imply that you only want his body. I don't think you do, but I think you're lying to yourself if you accuse me of thinking it, because you don't like the other option, namely that it's not his body you want, but his heart. You have got no control about who you have feelings for. You shouldn't be so reluctant to this idea. There's nothing wrong with it." He rose to his feet, leaving his friend on the chair. "Well, I've got some work to do. And you should go to sleep; you look as if you're falling asleep on your feet. Yes," Elrond answered, as he saw Glorfindel open his mouth. "I'll go to sleep as well. Later."

Glorfindel stared at the half elf for some moments, a strange feeling in his chest due to his words. But Elrond was ignoring him, having turned back to his work. Grumbling Glorfindel rose to his feet, making his way towards his tent. He wasn't sure if he liked what Elrond was implying but somehow he got the sneaking feeling that the half elf wasn't entirely wrong about this matter. Erestor was important to him, though he had not the faintest idea why. He reached his tent and sat down hard on his makeshift bed. He didn't want to think about this now. He tightly closed his eyes, willing his body to fall asleep, to stop his mind from dwelling on these thoughts.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Nothing mine and will never be.

Word count 1811/10199

* * *

For the first time Glorfindel hesitated before entering the tent, remaining in front of the flap, swallowing hard. He had put off this certain conversation as long as possible, but he knew that he couldn't wait any longer. It would only complicate things and, above all, it was unfair towards Erestor. He deserved to know what was going on and a chance at deciding about the future path his life would take. Resolutely he pushed the curtain aside and walked through the diminishing lines of wounded to where Erestor still lay.

A bright smile appeared on the youth's face as his gaze fell on Glorfindel's advancing figure. Glorfindel tried his best to smile back as happily but considering how Erestor's smile fell his attempt probably wasn't very successful. He sat down next to the cot and took a deep breath.

Erestor raised himself onto his elbows, staring at the warrior, waiting for him to speak. But Glorfindel remained silent, not sure how to broach the subject. "What's wrong?" Erestor finally asked, the worry in his voice only too evident.

Glorfindel opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out, and he could only stare unhappily at the elf next to him.

"Is it about me?" Erestor asked hesitantly.

Glorfindel nodded slowly and then took a deep breath. "Thranduil is gone."

Erestor stared at him for a moment, trying to make sense of this development. "What… do you mean?"

"He is gone," Glorfindel repeated, feeling like it was his fault that Erestor was stuck here, even though he knew perfectly well that no one was to blame but Thranduil. "Back to Mirkwood. Already weeks ago. He took all of his people and supplies and left. I know I should have told you earlier, but…" Glorfindel trailed off, unhappily.

Erestor was staring at his lap, face blank. "He just left?"

Glorfindel nodded, staring at his feet as well. "Everybody not fit to walk or ride stayed behind." Erestor let himself fall back onto the cot, covering his eyes with one arm.

This was exactly what Glorfindel had been trying to avoid all those time. Making Erestor unhappy and adding the burden of having been abandoned when he was most in need of help and support, having been left behind to fend for himself.

Long minutes passed in silence, Erestor trying to take in this information and Glorfindel not daring to interrupt him. "How could he do this?" Erestor finally asked, his voice tight with tears.

Glorfindel shrugged automatically, even though he knew Erestor wasn't looking. "I don't know. I don't have any explanation and even if I had, there's nothing to justify his actions. It's a horrible thing do to."

Erestor didn't reply, remaining as motionless as before. "What am I going to do now?" He sat up once more, unshed tears having given way to fury, and glared at Glorfindel angrily. "How the fuck could he do this?!"

Glorfindel couldn't answer, there just wasn't any, and only looked at the youth sadly.

Suddenly a look of horror passed over Erestor's face. "Oh Valar… My family! When I don't come back with the others… They'll think me dead!"

Glorfindel turned his gaze away, staring once more at his feet. "I'm sorry."

Erestor put his head in his hands, elbows resting on his legs. "What the hell am I supposed to do now?" he whispered desperately.

"Well…" Glorfindel hesitantly started. "About that… there's another thing I wanted to talk to you about." He waited for an answer, urging him on, but as there was none he dared to raise his head once more, seeing Erestor gaze at him expectantly. "There is a new place… It's most near to Lórien, but on the other side of the mountains. It's called Rivendell." He looked at Erestor, who seemed to listen to him attentively, before he continued. "Elrond build it. It lies in a large, hidden valley, full of waterfalls and with a river and a wood… at least I heard so…" He took a deep breath, trying to stop babbling. "Anyway… Elrond is still looking for people who'll come with him. He asked me if I'd like to accompany him and live there."

Erestor said nothing, lowering his hands to play with the blanket, looking at Glorfindel sadly and thoughtfully. "And will you go?"

"I'm not sure. I think I will," Glorfindel admitted. "The point is… Elrond would gladly receive you should you choose to go with him."

Erestor snorted unhappily. "I don't want to go there. I want to go home."

"I know. But you can't. It's too far and still too dangerous for the moment and…"

"I know," Erestor snapped.

Glorfindel flinched at the hard tone.

Erestor sighed, passing a hand over his face. "I need to think about this," he said, seeming depressed and tired.

Glorfindel nodded, rising to his feet. "I understand. Things like that take time. I'll… just leave you alone to… think." Erestor nodded, gaze still directed at the blanket, not looking up as Glorfindel quietly left the tent.

* * *

During the next days he carefully made sure not to look in on Erestor, even though every time he found enough time to spare his steps led him involuntarily towards the healing tent and he had to force himself to turn away, not wanting Erestor to feel pressured by his presence. He was impatient, though, waiting for the youth to take a decision, but urging him on would probably only prolong the process.

"My Lord Glorfindel."

Glorfindel looked up from the scarce meal he was sharing with some soldiers, to see an elf standing next to him of whom he knew that he was assisting Elrond in the healing tents.

"Please excuse my interruption. I have been asked to go for you. Your presence has been asked for in the healing tents."

"By Elrond?" Glorfindel inquired, swallowing a bite of dry lembas.

"No, my Lord. His name is Erestor and I think…"

Glorfindel instantly left his food behind and jumped to his feet, his heart beating fast with excitement. He remembered in the last moment to throw a 'Thank you' back over his shoulder as he marched with long, quick strides towards the tent.

Erestor was sitting up and staring at the entrance when he arrived, calmly waiting for his arrival. Glorfindel quickly slowed his steps and forced the impatient expression off of his face, not wanting to be too obviously excited about what Erestor had, perhaps, to say. "You asked for me?" he asked, a little breathless after all.

Erestor nodded, dark eyes directed at his face. "I'll come with you."

Glorfindel's heart leapt with joy in his chest and it was only now that he realized how much he had hoped for this answer. "To Rivendell?" he asked, to make sure. Erestor nodded once more, his expression turning slightly melancholic. "Where else should I go? Mirkwood is far, far away and there's no way I could go all that way by myself, or even with the few of my people that are still left here. If I could even walk, that is." He laughed humourlessly. It is as good a place to go to as any other. At least there are people there I already know."

"It won't be that bad. I'm sure you'll like it there," Glorfindel tried to cheer him up.

Erestor smiled slightly. "I might. But just now is just not the best of times to be happy about such a thing."

Glorfindel nodded, sitting down next to him. "I know what you mean."

"Elrond is there," Erestor continued, trying himself to think a little more positive now. "That's good, he can continue to take care of my leg. It's healing too slowly, he says. And besides from that…" He sighed deeply. "I really hope it will carry me once more one day."

"It will," Glorfindel reassured him. "Elrond is a good healer, probably the best."

Erestor smiled shakily, still looking anxious. "If you say so."

Glorfindel reached out to squeeze Erestor's shoulder. "All will be well."

He rose to his feet, reluctantly, half-heartedly excusing himself. "I'm sorry to have to leave you, but I don't have much time right now. I have duties to take care off..." His voice trailed off, trying to find an excuse for himself to stay, not wanting to leave, but there were things waiting for him he couldn't put off.

Erestor nodded understandingly, but the disappointed expression on his face showed that he would have preferred for Glorfindel to stay as well.

"I'm glad you'll come with us," Glorfindel told him, eliciting a smile on the youth's face, before he turned to leave once more.

* * *

It was nearly dark when he finally had enough time to go look for Elrond. The half elf wasn't in the front part of the tent, but one of the other healers told him he would properly be found in the supply tents.

Hurrying over Glorfindel entered the big structure, eerily empty, most of the food and water having gone long ago.

Elrond was standing in the midst of it, frowning at what few of the food was left.

"I've been thinking," Glorfindel started, stepping next to his friend.

"Me too," grumbled Elrond. "We eat too much."

Glorfindel nodded solemnly, looking around, before turning back to his original topic. "I've decided to come with you."

Elrond's expression instantly brightened up. "I'm very glad to hear this, my friend. I had really hoped you'd decide to join me."

Glorfindel nodded in acknowledgement. "Erestor wants to come as well," he broached his actual question.

"Oh, with pleasure!" Elrond instantly replied, seeming sincerely delighted. "There's more than enough space yet. And I could finally properly take care of that leg of his." Elrond passed a hand over his face, sighing loudly, not being able to linger on the joyful announcement for long, his worries weighing him down. "One way or another, we need to leave soon. The wounded use up much food and with Thranduil and part of the men already gone and having taken supplies for the way… Besides, I want to get away from this cursed place as quickly as possible."

"What about the wounded?" Glorfindel asked, worriedly. "Could we take them with us?"

Elrond nodded, a sad smile on his face. "Most of them have healed enough by now to be able to walk… or they have died. From the few that aren't able to walk, some would be able to ride, Erestor, for example. The rest of them are few enough to be carried without causing too much trouble."

Glorfindel nodded, agreeing. "I'll be glad to be gone from here. There is still some organising to be done, and the soldiers need to be informed, but I think we could leave this place within the week."

Elrond nodded, giving his approval, visibly relieved. "Finally."

* * *


End file.
